


How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful

by Zartbitterpoetin



Series: What The Water Gave Me [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, District 4 (Hunger Games), District 7 (Hunger Games), F/M, Finnick Odair Lives, Fluff, Gen, Recovery, Storytelling, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zartbitterpoetin/pseuds/Zartbitterpoetin
Summary: After the war, Finnick tries to rebuild his life. It's not easy, but at least he isn't alone.A story about recovery and telling stories.
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Johanna Mason & Finnick Odair
Series: What The Water Gave Me [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440973
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful" by Florence + The Machine.  
> This is the fourth and probably the happiest part of this series. You don't need to have read the other fanfics in this series, although I recommend it. The relationship to his district and his family is very similar to the one in "ein meer zwischen mir und meiner vergangenheit", just happier.

Finnick is standing on the beach, with the wind in his hair and Annie besides him. She is sitting on the ground, writing letters in the sand, and humming softly to herself. He tilts his head, trying to read it and then snorts. 

A + F, a heart around the two letters. 

It’s sappy, like they are in some romantic unrealistic novel full of sunshine and rainbows . Annie looks up to him with a mischievous grin, shrugs and it’s so soft and sweet and sometimes it feels like his heart isn’t big enough to hold the love he has for her. Carefully, he sits down beside her, and they stare out at the ocean. 

It doesn’t feel real, this new fragile thing they have created. Snow is dead and Coin is dead and Panem is free, or at least on the way to freedom. So what now? Now that they have won, now that everything is supposed to be better? What do you do when you have spent your whole life fighting? Without looking away from the water, Annie takes his hand, as if she heard his thoughts. 

“Finnick”, she says and nothing more. 

“It will be alright”, he says, and means it.

When it gets too chilly, they retreat to their house. They recently bought it with some of the money they still have from their victor’s fund. His childhood home is only a few minutes away, and his father and his siblings helped them move in. Their relationship is… different now. 

Finnick thinks that this is due to combination of many things; the death of his mother and brother, the end of the war, the end of all the lies. His family had always been there for Annie, even as they judged and mistrusted him, and Finnick is thankful for that. For that, and for the chance to grow a bit closer again.

Their house is old, with creaking floorboards, one of those houses that have their own life. At night, the wind is howling, and the windows are rattling and sometimes the rain is pounding loudly on the roof, and Finnick loves it. 

It’s the song of the sea, a lullaby rocking him and Annie to sleep. It’s a calming thought, that after everything, their home can still sing for them. Finnick hides whispers of love in Annie’s hair and she gifts him soft kisses of wonder on his chin and eyes and cheeks, but never on his mouth. 

They have discovered that it doesn’t work for Finnick, that it sends him into a state of panic and fear most of the time. He doesn’t know why it’s that specifically and he tries to apologize, but Annie shushes him. 

“It’s alright”, she says and holds him close. 

“I’m not quite right when I hear dogs barking or when I smell the scent of turpentine. They have hurt us Finnick. And they left scars. We shouldn’t be ashamed for the scars they left. They show that we survived them. That we are still here while they aren’t anymore.” 

It’s late summer when their son is born and it’s overwhelming and beautiful. Their son is a little miracle. They call him James, for Annie’s father, and because of the stories that were passed down for generations in their families. Mags used to love the old heroes in the stories, with their mischief and hidden rebellion. Her life had been a story of secret resistance and Finnick longs for her to see this, that her efforts weren’t for nothing, not at all. 

She is the mother of the revolution and in a way, she was his mother too. They talk about Mags often. That’s how Annie starts making the jewelry, out of beautiful shells. Mags used to make them too, and she gave every Tribute of Four one. “Don’t forget your home,” she told them, before their games started. And then she gave every victor a second one too. “Don’t forget yourself,” she told them. 

Annie is selling them now, but sometimes she also gives them for free, to people who look like they need them. Finnick is helping in the district where he can because there are so many destroyed buildings still and the Odairs have more than enough money left for the rest of their lives, so they can basically do what they want now. And making jewelry, rebuilding their district and learning to live again seem like good ways to spend their time. 

At the beginning, a lot of the people in Four didn’t know how to behave around them, the victors, the survivors, the strange couple. Annie with her panic attacks and mumbling to herself and Finnick with his million masks that have now suddenly fallen away. 

Just a week after they came back, there was a little incident with Finnick and a few men, who accused him of having forgotten his home, who questioned his place in the rebellion and in this new world. They said what many in Four thought and Finnick, fed up with all the assumptions, the scrutiny, the judgement, got into a short fight with them. After shouting at them how much he had done for the revolution and for his home (and later apologizing for giving one of the men, Brian, a bloody nose), they came to an understanding that later development into friendship. Honestly, half of the friendships in Four are formed in brawls, so Finnick felt kind of honored. 

And after this, he and Annie slowly grew back into the community, which was drastically changing anyway, because of the migration flows all across Panem, the new political system, the new government, the rebuilding and a million other factors. Since they are always willing to help where they can, they are quickly integrated into this new community. Although it probably also helps that they can both be quite charming, and that most people in Four are open-minded. 

Annie makes and sells jewelry, and much more importantly, tells the old stories to anyone willing to listen. Finnick helps with mending nets, with paving the street, with repairing furniture and rebuilding houses. It feels good, this hard labor. Feels good to create something with his own hands, instead of destroying. 

But Finnick wants to do more, somehow. 

I just feel like I am not doing enough”, he tells Annie, as they sit in the living room, enjoying the tranquility of their son finally sleeping. Annie pauses and looks up from the book she is reading. 

“You owe them nothing,” she says.

“I know,” he says, frustrated. “But I want to do more. For me, I think.” 

A pause, again. Outside, the waves crash against the shore. 

“Maybe they need stories”, Annie finally says. It’s an old saying in Four, one that means that just being safe and not hungry or cold or homeless is not enough. You need freedom, life, stories. 

“I’ve never seen the other districts. Not really. Maybe if- if we ask their people for their stories, write them down – maybe we could share them with the country, give them hope and show them that we are one united nation now”, he says, lost in thought, a plan already forming in his mind. 

“I’m coming with you,” she says, already knowing what he is thinking of, and that is how they decide to start traveling. 

It is not as easy as Finnick thought. The infrastructure is still partly destroyed by the war and they do not really know which district they should start with. Cue Johanna. 

Finnick has promised himself to stay in touch with his friends (which are not many, even fewer now) and when he catches up with Johanna on their weekly phone call, which mostly consists of the both of them not really talking about anything for ten minutes, he tells her of his plan and asks if they could start with Seven. She agrees, surprisingly sincere, and says that she can’t wait to finally meet her godson. 

Still, it takes them another month until they get on a train to Seven. They prepare – Annie buys an old camera from the market, Finnick buys some notebooks, they ponder over interview questions and concepts – and then they pack and leave Sally to watch over the house while they’re gone. 

It’s harder than either of them expects, to leave Four behind, even though they know that it is only temporary. They have only been bad memories connected to leaving home but fortunately the trip on the train is nothing like before. There are more passengers, normal people like them, everything is clean but not luxurious and the atmosphere is completely different, much more relaxed. Finnick sometimes jokes around that he has developed an allergy to glitter and gold but of course the reason his stomach turns when he comes into contact with this stuff has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the memories attached to these luxuries. 

The train rolls in and James insists on walking out the carriage by himself. Finnick heaves their baggage out, while Annie handles their backpack and their son, who is still too small for the gap I’m sorry James. 

Johanna isn’t there to greet them. In fact, there is almost no one at the station. Only a few other passengers exit or get on and the station is pretty run down in comparison to Four. 

As the little family makes their way towards the cabin where Johanna lives, Finnick notices how different the atmosphere here is. 

It’s almost like another world, if you are used to all the canneries, the trawlers and the constant presence of the water, or the bright lights of the Capitol and it’s skyscrapers. Neither the Capitol nor Four are ever really silent. The forest is not completely silent either, but it’s another kind of loud. Prettier, in a way. The wind blows though the leaves and the birds sing softly. It is peaceful. 

The buildings and the people on the other hand show clear signs of scars from the war. Although most of the district has been rebuild, the people still seem somber and closed off. But that may also just be related to the mentality of the Seven. 

Or the war. 

Finnick can’t tell because he doesn’t know any people from here and he doesn’t think Johanna really counts. Speaking of the devil – Johanna is walking towards them now. She looks different, with her hair at shoulder length again and simple but practical clothing on. The bags under her eyes are heavy. She seems tired, tired and hollow.

For a moment, they all just stare at each other, in an uncomfortable silence. Then Johanna bends down and greets little James. 

“Hello little human. I’m your Aunt Jo.” 

And James, bless his cute little heart, beams at her. After that, it’s like before. 

Jo lets them stay at her cabin, which is pretty cozy, even after Johanna tells them that this used to be where her family lived until the Capitol murdered them. They are all used to ghosts after all. 

While Annie is upstairs with James, Johanna turns to him with desperation in her eyes. “I want to tell my story. For your– your project, or whatever,” she says, clutching the wooden table in her kitchen. For a moment he doesn’t know what to say. Then he nods, slowly. 

“If you think you can manage. It’s alright if– “

Jo interrupts him. “Fuck off, Odair. I have thought about this, okay?” 

The next day, they go out into the woods, and Johanna tells them everything. About the way her parents smiled at each other, or about how she and her siblings were scolded for playing hide and seek to deep in the woods. About the Capitol and how they realized that the only way she could really be used was as a bad example. 

She talks about having no home, about friendship and death. About hate and love and freedom. 

Finnick writes it all down, while Annie makes photos of the green forests, of the flowers and the sky but never of Johanna. She has been seen enough. 

They stay for three weeks and with time, the people in Seven open up to them. They help where they can and explain to everyone willing to listen that they want to gather the stories of Panem. 

At first, people are very reluctant, but then Nina, an old woodworker, invites them into their home. She doesn’t know how old she is exactly, but she still remembers the time before the Games and she tells them about her blurry memories, and of her long life filled with suffering and love. 

Her husband has been dead for two decades, and one of her grandchildren died in the Hunger Games, while another granddaughter died in the rebellion. Nina says she doesn’t dwell on it, although she certainly won’t forget. 

She also tells them that she is grateful for the long life she has had. She talks about the many weddings that she has helped. When she sees their confused faces upon the term, she cackles and then explains to them a custom: In Seven, like in many other districts, weddings are a community event, but here each wedding has helpers, people who contribute the wedding gifts. Apparently, Nina is one of the greatest carvers in Seven and thus she has contributed many wood figures, the most common gifts. Annie takes photos of some of the beautiful craftwork.

Her great-grandchildren are playing outside, and their laughter is ringing through the air while Nina continues to talk for almost an hour and when she is finished, she takes Finnick’s hand in her own. Her hands are wrinkled and calloused. 

“I’m glad I got to see the end of the games,” she tells him. “I know you used to be one of those Career pricks. It’s good that you are doing this now. We need the image of a new Panem now.” Then she pats his hand, in a gesture that reminds him painfully of Mags and he swallows, holding back tears.

That’s the turning point. After this interview, people start approaching them, with their own stories to tell. Apparently, Nina is something like an honored elder and her talking to the outsiders broke the spell holding everyone back. 

It’s strange how much similarities there are to the people of Four. The grieving families, the orphaned children, the desperation – they are all the same. But there are also some differences: while Four had cooperated to a certain degree with the Capitol, and somehow benefited from it, this had never been the case for Seven. They hadn’t had any real chances in the game, but they also hadn’t lived in such extreme poverty as other districts. Their population was quite small, compared to most districts and thus they had developed a very strong sense of community, and could at times be very skeptical of outsiders. 

Finnick loves observing the similarities and differences, of figuring out how this District works, socially, and he loves writing about it. After another two weeks, they have gathered enough material for now and decide to go back home, to the dismay of both James and Johanna. Finnick asks her to come with them, but she says that she isn’t ready yet and he understands. 

He will wait as long as it takes, although he already misses her terribly. But at the same time, the sea calls him home, and he knows that Annie feels the same. So they head back home and start to put everything they have together.

Finnick writes a lot, and they mix his texts with transcripts of the interviews and the photos Annie took, until they finally have a little book. Finnick decides to talk to Cressida about this, see if she has any idea of how to get this published and she gives him the contact of an upcoming publishing house. Since a lot of corrupt and criminal Capitol citizens have lost their companies under the new government, the monopoly of the big companies has practically vanished, and together with the new liberal laws, this has already led to a drastic increase of new and interesting media. 

Their project fits right in with the new zeitgeist and the publishing house that Cressida suggested is immediately interested when he calls them. At first, he thinks it is only because of their names attached to it and aspects them to decline the offer after all when he informs them that he doesn’t want to publish under their real names. To his surprise, they still agree and want to publish their book. 

Of course, it takes some time – they work together with an editor and change some things. But when the book is finally published, Finnick is overwhelmed by the feedback. The book doesn’t sell extremely well but for their first work, they still get a surprisingly high number of both public and critical acclaim. And reading the reviews and seeing how people are reacting, Finnick realizes that he wants to keep doing this. That he loves doing this, actually. 

Just after the book gets published, he starts traveling again. Annie accompanies him most of the time but sometimes she also stays home. They have been talking to their therapists about codependency and over the years they become better and better in being there for each other without it becoming to unhealthy (because for the first time, it was unhealthy – they weren’t able to do almost anything alone, without the other.) Finnick travels through the districts, and he talks and writes and sees this country stitching itself back together; finds himself healing with it. 

Not everything is fine, and it may never be. It’s not like Annie’s flashbacks or his nightmares magically vanish, they just get rarer. Somehow, he knows that none of the survivors, the former victors, will ever completely recover – but, well, it’s like Annie said: They shouldn’t be ashamed for the scars the Capitol, Snow, and people like him left on them. 

He goes through the districts and meets so many different people who tell him their stories. Sometimes he is glad that he is used to cruelty and violence because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to write it all down like this otherwise. 

After three years, James gets two little sisters. 

Finnick gets to see his country grow into a democracy, into a better country. He still travels a lot, often accompanied by Annie and sometimes also by their children. When the twins are born, Johanna travels to Four to see the little humans for herself. She still doesn’t go near the sea but Finnick is so proud of her still. She visits them more often and often after that and they always have a room for her. They start really talking to Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch again and they visit each other too. His children grow up with their cousins and with the sea and with a great, big family that loves them. 

It isn’t easy all the time. There are days where Annie isn’t quite there and starts talking to herself, days where Finnick recoils from touch, or forgets who he is (wearing a mask for years will do that to you). 

If, which doesn’t happen often, less and less over the years, they both have very bad days at the same time, James takes his little sisters and goes to the old Odair house, where one of his many uncles or aunts can take care of them until his parents are better again. One time, Johanna is there and takes care of them instead. Finnick always feels incredible guilty after but he knows that this is the price they had to pay for the chance at happiness. For their children being safe. 

They try to raise their children as best as they can, they continue gathering and publishing stories and, most importantly, they are happy most of the time. 

And decades later, Finnick sits at the beach and watches the sunset, while Jo and James talk to each other on the porch of their house (with too much swearing, definitely Johanna’s influence, goddammit). James has just graduated from school and wants to study at one of the Capitol universities next and he just loves arguing about political topics and history with them. 

It honestly drives Finnick crazy sometimes because James isn’t afraid to ask difficult questions, which can sometimes lead to very difficult conversations. He has a sharp mind, a silver tongue and warmth underneath it all. He might have become a victor, in another world and once again Finnick is glad that he lives in this one. That they build this one. 

He can hear music playing from his house. Holly is practicing with her guitar and the music is occasionally interrupted by a few wrong chords and then cursing. Kira is studying for an upcoming test, or at least she said she would. Finnick knows that instead, she snuck out to meet with some of her cousins and friends at the docks but since she will be back on time, he isn’t too worried about it. Although he might have to talk to her anyway, just to make sure that she knows that she can always talk to her parents about everything.

Tomorrow he has to edit the article he wrote concerning the current discussion in the parliament about funding for the education programs in Eleven and Ten and Eight, but that is tomorrow.

For now, he can rest, in a country that is trying to be better, with his family and friends. 

A figure comes up beside him, not directly from behind, but from the side so that he knows he is not in danger. That is how he knows the person is a fellow victor, and the footsteps aren’t soft enough for Johanna. Which only leaves Annie. They great each other with a nod and a soft smile. Annie sits down beside him and carefully lays her head on his shoulder. 

Before their eyes, sea and sky melt into each other, creating an endless painting of gold, red and blue. The waves crash against the shore and he can smell the salt and algae, the smell of home. He watches the seagulls in the sky and doesn’t want to join them anymore because what he has down here is good. Why fly away when he can do what he loves, be who he wants to be? His loved ones are safe and there is no need to fight or kill anyone and this might be the closest to paradise someone like him can be. 

This is freedom. 

This is home.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @leuchtstabrebell.


End file.
